


Moving Over the Face of the Waters

by sloganeer



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Domestic Fluff, First Dates, M/M, Season/Series 08, barely managed anxiety issues, dad feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-27
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-17 00:42:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15449532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sloganeer/pseuds/sloganeer
Summary: "Put down the pasta, change out of your work clothes, get in the car, and go to Uncle Steve's. I told him to light the barbecue.""How do you know I'm eating pasta?"-Inspired by Danny's water bottle in the season nine behind the scenes photo (https://www.instagram.com/p/BlTukevnokU), but it's mostly about what Steve and Danny should've been doing for the last eight seasons.





	Moving Over the Face of the Waters

Grace filled it and put it in his hand that morning. "You need to drink three of these today. Don't cheat. Uncle Steve will tell me if you do."

They take the truck to the crime scene because Steve's parking spot is closer to the Palace entrance. Danny spots the bottle in Steve's cup holder--a twin to his own--as soon as he gets in. It's shiny blue, decorated with a pattern like waves. 

"Where did you get that?" Danny says, pointing an accusing finger.

Steve checks his blind spot, then stares out his window, avoiding Danny and the answer. "Huh?" he says, like he doesn't know.

"You did this!" Danny smacks Steve's shoulder with the back of his hand. "I knew I shouldn't have let the two of you go grocery shopping this weekend." 

"All I did was pay! It was Gracie's idea."

Danny left his bottle on his desk, where he would be sure to see it throughout the day, so he picks up Steve's. It's light--already more than half empty. Steve is even better at drinking water than him.

"She's such a worrywart," he says. He unscrews the cap and takes a long drink, delighting in Steve's germaphobic grimace. 

Once Steve has parked and turned off the engine, he snatches his bottle out of Danny's hand. "You're disgusting and a terrible role model for your children." 

"Love you, too, babe!" Danny shouts as Steve stalks towards the crowd of police officers. No one turns to look. They've heard it all before.

Back at the office, Danny finds his own bottle and guzzles it down. The water is surprisingly cold, a welcome respite after a morning wandering through their victim's sunny backyard. He marks his mental tally, refills the bottle, then joins the rest of the team around the table.

Steve is watching him with a look Danny doesn't recognise. Danny holds his bottle aloft in victory.

Lou shakes his head. "I don't even want to know."

Later, at the hospital, Danny is filling his bottle for the fourth time and waving it in Steve's face. "Who's getting a gold star on their chore chart tonight?"

"Make sure you hit the head before you get back in my truck."

Steve left his bottle in the truck's cup holder, but Danny has been clutching his like a trophy. He spins it in his hands while Steve talks to the nurse, searching for their suspect on her computer. Danny's bottle is plain, a shiny jet black, where Steve's is drawn with wavy lines.

"Why did I get the boring one?" he asks, hustling after Steve, who dodges wheelchairs and small children easily with his long legs.

"It's not boring," Steve says, coming to a stop outside a closed door. With his hands on his hips, he frowns at Danny. "It matches your car."

Danny squints up at Steve, haloed by the yellow lights. He watches Steve's face until Steve blinks, squirms, looks down and away.

"You picked this one," Danny says, tapping the bottle against Steve's chest.

"C'mon, Danno. Let's talk to this suspect." Steve reaches for the door handle, but Danny stops him with a hand.

"This new health regime might've been Grace's idea, but this bottle..." Danny taps it against the side of Steve's head now. "This is all you."

Steve twists his arm out of Danny's hold and snatches the bottle away. "You don't like it? I'll take it back. I still have the receipt." He bursts into the suspect's room before Danny can say anything else.

They interview their suspect, but it's obvious he didn't do it. The disappointment brings the case back to the beginning, and Danny notices how Steve walks a little closer on their way out, leaning in so their shoulders brush with a comforting touch. But he's still holding Danny's water bottle hostage.

"You were right," Danny says. Steve looks down at him, confused. "I do have to pee."

Steve barks a laugh. "I'll meet you out there."

He's screwing the lid back onto his bottle--no doubt empty now--when Danny climbs into the passenger seat.

"Someone's gunning for that gold star."

Danny steals his bottle back from where Steve has left it in the second cup holder. It's empty.

"You sure you don't want to pee before we get on the highway? Rush hour traffic. Might be a while."

Steve shakes his head. "I dumped it out in that plumeria over there."

"You're an animal. Eight years I've been working at you, and you're still a feral beast." 

Steve gives him a big cheesy grin, with a flash of those perfect white teeth.

They fight silently over the radio once they're on the road. Danny wins when he finds a Bon Jovi song. It's rarely so quiet in the car, especially when a case isn't going well. 

"I like the black," Danny says when he can't stand it anymore.

"I knew you would, Danno."

"Did Grace pick out that one for you?" he asks.

Steve smiles and nods, a little bit smug, but Danny will allow it.

"Don't think my acquiescence to the agua means I'll be joining you two on your morning jogs."

"No one invited you, Danno. Running is a me and Gracie thing."

Steve gives him a sneaky side-eye.

"Well, then, me and Charlie are gonna make pizza next week, and you and Grace can't have any." 

Steve shrugs, casually, while he weaves in and out of traffic at 10 miles above the speed limit. "Fine," he says. "Gracie and I were talking about going gluten-free anyway." 

"You're such a liar." Danny laughs. Steve would never give up Danny's Sunday pancakes, not even out of spite.

"Just trying to keep my best girl happy," Steve says.

He says it like it's easy, like he's never had a second thought. He's not their parent, or even their uncle, but Danny knows, down to the deepest part of himself, Steve would do anything to make Grace and Charlie happy, to keep them safe.

Danny reaches across the truck, past their two matching water bottles in the side-by-side cup holders, and puts his hand on Steve's thigh. Steve looks down, and when his eyes meet Danny's, they're wide and bright.

"Maybe I could save a slice of pizza for you," Danny says. 

"Only if Charlie says it's OK." Steve has to keep both hands on the wheel, but he keeps glancing down at Danny's hand.

"Of course, babe."

After a long hard day, and the case left unfinished, Danny gets in his car, Steve gets in his truck, and they drive home to their own houses. Rachel texted to let him know she picked up the kids. Danny is alone for another week.

He turns on the TV and stumbles back into the couch with the assault of sound and colour. Charlie was watching cartoons before they left for school. Danny jams the volume button down, then finds a baseball game to keep him company.

He puts a pot of water on to boil before going through the fridge. The groceries are at Steve's because that's where Danny and the kids spent the weekend. All Danny has to toss with some pasta is a bag of limp spinach and a tough heel of bread. 

Grace calls while Danny is blending up some pesto and toasting breadcrumbs.

"Sooo...?"

"So what?" Danny says. "What did your uncle Steve say?"

"I called you first, Danno." Grace huffs, and in the far background, Danny can hear Charlie shout, "I wanna talk to Danno!"

"I'm just happy I'm on your todo list," he snaps. 

Grace is quiet, but Danny hears her breathing. "OK," she says. "You're grumpy. Are you at your place or Steve's?"

"I'm sorry, Monkey. I just had a bad day. Bad case," Danny admits. "Thank you for the new bottle. I love it almost as much as I love you."

"Why aren't you at Uncle Steve's, Danno?" Grace sounds really worried now. Of all the things Danny wanted to pass down his daughter, anxiety came dead last. "He was going to cook you guys dinner. We even bought sour cream for the baked potatoes."

"He what?" Danny takes his crispy breadcrumbs off the heat. "You what?" 

"Wait right there," Grace says, but then Danny hears dial tone.

"No. Grace! Monkey?" Danny pulls his phone away from his ear to stare at it, but still no answer. "I'm the only one holding this place together." He's also talking to himself. 

He finishes putting his dinner together, which isn't as good as it would be if he had parmesan in the fridge. But Danny finds a bottle of red wine in the cupboard, and the Mets are leading in the eighth.

Grace phones back before the top of the ninth.

"Go to Uncle Steve's house," she orders.

"Monkey."

"Danno." Grace has always been able to get Danny do whatever she wants, even before she discovered her big sister voice. "Put down the pasta, change out of your work clothes, get in the car, and go to Uncle Steve's. I told him to light the barbecue."

"How do you know I'm eating pasta?" Danny asks, staring open-mouthed down at the bowl resting on his stomach.

"Danno," Grace says, and this time it means, 'I'm not dumb.'

"I'm going!" He leaves the bowl in the kitchen and pulls his shirt over his head as he jogs into his bedroom. "How do you know so much, Monkey?"

"I've been watching the two of you for eight long years, Danno." Grace follows her declaration with a dramatic sigh. "Also, my dad's a detective."

"I drank four bottles of water today," Danny tells her.

"Good," she says. "Tomorrow, you have to drink five."

Grace is still laughing when Danny says good night and hangs up the phone.

He takes a quick shower, since he's changing his clothes anyway. He thinks about Steve marinating steaks, wrapping potatoes in aluminum foil, picking chives out of the garden. Danny thinks about his hand on Steve's thigh and how warm it felt. 

He grabs the wine on the way out the door. He gets in his car, then pulls up behind Steve's truck, barely remembering the drive in between.

It's late for dinner, the sun already on its way down. Danny needs a moment to breathe before he goes inside, but then he hears Eddie's bark, announcing his arrival. He can't put it off any longer. 

Bottle of wine in hand, Danny walks up the overgrown path. He has butterflies wrestling in his stomach, though it's been years since he had a first date.

If this could possibly be called a first date. Danny looks up when he hears the click of nails on stone, Eddie running towards him with that long tongue hanging out. He stops to give Eddie a scratch between the ears and a pat on his strong back.

Steve is staring, standing in the open door, waiting for Danny to look up and notice him. 

"Why is my daughter setting up your dates for you, McGarrett?"

"Why do I have to ask you to come home with me, Danno?" Steve is there with an outstretched hand when Danny gets to the open door, Eddie circling their feet. "You should just be here."

It's easy to fall into a kiss. Steve tugs him closer and wraps his arm around Danny's waist when they stumble over Eddie. Even with their comical height difference, Danny barely has to stretch to find Steve's mouth. 

They've been inches apart for the last eight years.

"I still get dinner, right?" Danny matches Steve with an arm around his waist when they pull apart just enough to walk through the house without falling over.

"I even made dessert," Steve says.

"Is that Smooth Dog code for sex?" Danny asks.

Steve fills Eddie's bowl, while Danny tosses the salad. They dance around the kitchen, meeting in a clutch with Danny's back pressed against the island. Steve drops kisses on his forehead, his nose, his lips, then he's gone again, finishing dinner prep so they can head out back to grill the steaks. 

"I hate your kitchen, by the way." Danny wipes down the counter as Steve gathers everything onto a big tray. He scrubs uselessly at the grout between the tiles. "It makes no sense."

"Yes, Danno." Steve throws a grin over his shoulder. Danny hoists himself up onto the clean counter to watch Steve's broad back and shoulders. "I remember the rant when you gave me that butcher block for my birthday."

"And yet you still haven't renovated." 

"Well," Steve says, pointing Danny to the cupboard with the wine glasses. Danny chooses two big glasses and finds a corkscrew from the drawer. "Now you can design the kitchen of your dreams." 

"That sounds good," Danny says, sneaking a grope of Steve's butt as he walks by, arms full of food. "Considering the restaurant is a frequent subject of my nightmares." 

"No work talk," Steve orders. Danny finds he likes following Steve's orders.

He likes following Steve's swaying hips out onto the beach, where the sky is pink and the waves are calm.

Steve plays with the grill, rearranging the baked potatoes before laying down the steaks. Danny pours the wine and delivers a glass into Steve's waiting hand.

"This doesn't feel a whole lot different from the last time we had a barbecue," Danny says, leaning into the curve of Steve's arm.

"I think the team would've had something to say if I did this last weekend." Bending Danny backwards over his arm, Steve opens their mouths into a dirty kiss. 

"The team would've had many things to say about that, Smooth Dog." Danny swats Steve away when he dips back in for more. "Don't burn my steak." 

He wanders away to let Steve do what he does with fire. Danny sips his wine and waits for dinner. He savours a rare stress-free moment with Steve. There's no need to worry about what comes next because, finally, Danny knows.

Charlie's patch of a garden is growing thick and green. The class assignment for the unit about plants was to grow a package of mystery seeds. Danny spots the shiny leaves of basil, round purple flowers on the end of chive stalks, and when he rubs a handful of something like pine needles, he discovers it's rosemary.

Steve has kept Charlie's garden watered, but it's an overgrown mess with weeds mixed in. Still, it survives. This house still has some life in it, after all it's been through.

"Maybe we can turn Charlie into a farmer," Danny says, walking back to the table with a handful of chives to top their baked potatoes. "He's growing all the herbs a respectable Italian restaurant needs."

"I never agreed to be respectable," Steve says. He puts his hands on Danny's shoulders and leads him to his seat. Then there's a perfectly cross-hatched steak and his plate and a wet kiss on his cheek. "Let's eat."

Danny watches Steve first, tearing into his meat like a starving dog, reaching across the table to dollop sour cream on his potato, and washing it down with red wine.

"Nice to see nothing is going to change," Danny says, taking a tiny sip from his glass to illustrate his point.

Steve pauses, full mouth, bulging cheeks. Danny laughs, and Eddie barks, wanting in on the joke.

Steve swallows, thankfully, before he speaks. "What would you want to change? Our life is awesome, and now we get to have sex, Danno." 

"OK, first thing: you can't call me 'Danno' when we are talking about or engaging in sex." He puts down his glass before it flies out of his hand. "That's my children's nickname, Steve." 

They both make a face. "Right," Steve says. "Sorry. Won't happen again."

The food is amazing. Steve doesn't have a lot of variety in his repertoire, so he cooks what he knows. He knows what he likes, and usually that's what Danny likes, too. 

"Why don't we drink wine more?" Steve asks. "This is really good."

"You open your wallet for the good stuff, babe, and I'm happy to share a bottle with you."

"You know..." Steve sits back, licking a bit of sauce off his thumb. He thinks he's subtle. "If we didn't have to drive two vehicles every day, I'd save a lot of money on gas."

"I don't know how you ever got that nickname, sailor." Danny picks a cherry tomato out of the salad and tosses it between Steve's waggling eyebrows. "This may not technically be a first date, but I am not moving in."

"Yet," Steve says. He catches Danny's hand over the table. He kisses Danny's fingers in the sweetest, weirdest gesture.

"Yet," Danny agrees.

His children have clothes here, probably still dirty in a basket in Steve's laundry room. They have beds, with half-read books on the bedside tables. Charlie's garden is here, and Grace's surfboard is leaning against the fence.

The only problem with this date is how it doesn't feel like a date at all. It feels like dinner at Steve's place after a long day at work. It feels like they've been stupid not doing this all along.

"Did you always know?" Danny asks.

Instead of letting go of his hand, Steve pulls Danny up off his seat and away from the table. They walk down to the water. Steve leaves his flip flops behind.

The two chairs at the shoreline were here when this house was a crime scene. Danny tries to imagine Doris and John McGarrett sitting here, holding hands, watching the waves, their children playing in the sand. It's a faint image, and it doesn't last long in Danny's mind.

These chairs must've belonged to the McGarretts, but they're Steve and Danny's now. This is where they sit and watch Charlie building racetracks in the sand, where Grace falls into Danny's lap for a rest between waves. Now this is where Steve holds Danny's hand. 

"I don't know anything, Danno. You're the brains in this partnership."

Danny starts with an easy question. "Have you been with a man before?" Simple yes or no.

"Technically," Steve says.

"How is that--what does that mean?"

"Technically," Steve says, eyes on the far horizon, "the Navy didn't make it easy for me to be with a man."

Danny tugs their hands across the space between the chairs and presses his lips to Steve's open palm. "I'm sorry," he says. "I'm sorry you've been holding so tightly to that part of yourself."

Steve nods. Danny has only seen him cry once, but the look in his eyes now is devastating.

"You can let go now, babe." Danny holds Steve's hand to his cheek. He gives Steve permission to explore. "I can't wait to see all of you."

Steve's fingers brush over Danny's lips, a tease too quick for Danny's tongue to respond. Then Steve drags his hand down, down to the collar of Danny's shirt. After brushing off imaginary sand, Steve's fingers work at the top button, and then the next.

Danny always appreciated men. He played sports; he was in the Boy Scouts. Danny had many chances in his life to appreciate men and their bodies. Han Solo's thigh holster. Bruce Springsteen's blue jeans.

But when it came to dating, and later, sex, Danny knew what to do with women. The only things his friend ever talked about was what to do with women. 

With men, with Steve, Danny was adrift, stuck on this boat, and he forgot his water bottle in the car. 

"You've never done this." Steve doesn't stop unbuttoning Danny's shirt, but his eyes go wide--one surprised moment that Danny doesn't miss. Steve's motivation changes from Navy to nurture. 

"I considered it." Danny shrugs. He could help their night along by pulling his shirt over his head, Danny is enjoying watching Steve. "I considered it a lot over the last few years."

"The last eight years?" Steve asks.

"Remember what the therapist said about fishing for compliments?" Danny cuffs his ear, then leaves his hand there, cupped over Steve's jaw, allowing his thumb to come to rest on Steve's mouth.

The chairs are far enough apart that leaning across for a kiss isn't exactly comfortable. But Danny hasn't had nearly enough yet. He finished a rib-eye steak, loaded baked potato, salad with dressing, and he still wants more. 

"We don't have to do anything more than this tonight," Steve says. He kisses Danny with soft pecks, over and over, neither of them pushing any deeper.

"But maybe on the couch instead?" Danny asks.

"Oh, thank god you said it." Steve groans when he stands. Danny hears his own knees creak when Steve pulls him up. "I'm too old to canoodle on the beach." 

"But old enough to use the word 'canoodle'." 

Between the two of them, they manage to carry everything back into the house in one trip. Steve leaves the door open for the night breeze to blow through, cooling the whole house. Eddie beds down in the sand, and he might be there a while.

Danny's phone, forgotten on the kitchen counter, dings at him as he fills the dishwasher. Steve twists away from the fridge and reads the message.

"It's Gracie," he says.

"Checking up on us," Danny guesses. Steve's grin is confirmation.

"But seriously," Danny says. He wipes his hands with the towel hanging from the stove while letting Steve deal with starting up his complicated dishwasher. Danny still hasn't learned what all the buttons means. "I hate that she has to worry about me. I'll be honest, it's just one more reason I can't wait to retire."

"I don't think you're special, Danno." Steve takes the towel from his hands. "I think all kids worry about their parents, even if they're not cops."

Danny puts Steve's hands on his hips and tilts his chin upwards. Permission granted, Steve wraps Danny up in his long arms, and they kiss in lazy, languid love. 

"She worries about you, too," Danny murmurs.

"You think?" Steve asks.

"I know."

As the smile spreads across Steve's face, and the warmth grows between their bodies, Danny spots the moment he shuts it down.

"OK," Steve says. "You should call her back." He pulls away, back to Danny, reaching for something in the freezer. "Go watch your SportsCenter, and I'll make us some coffee."

Danny presses his hand between Steve's shoulder blades, and he can feel the tightness there.

"Right," he says, grabbing his phone. "Two minutes," he promises.

Danny settles into the couch, but he leaves the TV off. He doesn't like leaving Steve alone in these moods, but he really does want to talk to Grace. It's late, and she should be in bed, so he texts first.

She calls him back. "Oh my god, finally! Tell me everything."

"This isn't gonna be as easy as you hoped, Monkey."

She huffs. "What did you do, Danno?"

"Nothing! I've been a perfect gentleman all evening."

The sound of the coffee grinder fills the silence. At least there will be coffee soon.

"I don't understand," Grace says. "We talked about this all weekend. Steve had a plan."

"Wait, I thought this was your plan?"

"No, my plan is to make sure you're healthy enough to make it past retirement." That explains the water and dinner, the way Grace is never far away with a check-in text. "Steve's plan is to take care of you when Charlie and I can't be there." 

"So why is he hiding in the kitchen, Monkey?"

"Because he doesn't know how to be in love, Danno."

He might hate how he passed his anxiety down to his kids, but Danny will forever be thankful Grace got that fearless wisdom from her mother.

He knows Grace is right. He says good night, promises to call in the morning, then turns off his phone completely.

"Steve?" After tossing all the throw pillows on the floor, Danny lays down and gets comfortable. "I thought we were gonna do something on the couch, babe!" 

There's a noisy clatter of dishes from the kitchen, but it doesn't sound like anything is broken.

"Babe?"

"I'm fine," Steve calls out, his voice like Charlie's when Danny leaves the kid alone in the tub.

It always means he's not fine.

Danny closes his eyes. This couch is the same one from all those years ago, when Danny had nowhere else to stay. Of course, he had nowhere else to stay because Steve took one look at that dark basement apartment and moved Danny out. Steve carried stuff to the car in garbage bags because he couldn't stand the idea of Danny staying a minute more than necessary.

Now that the spare rooms have been cleaned out, Grace has her own room, and Danny bunks up with Charlie. Steve had nearly turned that room into a gym before they had to go out and buy two twin beds.

Not tonight, though. They might start on the couch, but Danny isn't sleeping in a twin bed tonight.

"Wake up, Danno." Steve is standing over him, two mugs in one hand. Well, they're not getting to the sex yet.

Danny sits up to make space for Steve. "You done hiding from me?"

"I was making the coffee!"

"Babe." Danny buts his head against Steve's shoulder until Steve relents and tucks Danny under the curve of his arm. Nothing has ever felt safer than being held like this. "You pushed me away and kicked me out of the kitchen."

"You had to call Gracie." Now Steve is just making excuses. He says it like he doesn't know Danny can tell.

"I really didn't. Not right away. Not in the middle of our date," he says. Danny feels Steve's muscles clench. "Hey!" Danny pokes his fingers into Steve's side, which usually makes him laugh. "This is a date. You cooked dinner. You basically asked me to move in!"

"I shouldn't have done that," Steve says. He makes to stand up, but Danny won't let him.

"Steve, you meant it." He pulls Steve's arm tighter around his neck. "You're allowed to want it."

"It's too soon," Steve says, head shaking.

Danny can't stop the laughter bubbling out of him. "In what world is the two of us living together too soon? Babe, we should've done this years ago."

Steve is still shaking his head, but he's also holding onto Danny's hand. Danny curls himself closer, and he rubs Steve's belly like he does when Grace has cramps. Slowly, Steve's body relaxes into the couch.

"Charlie is still so little," he says. Danny stays quiet while Steve spins his thoughts. "Grace--she knows the difference. She knows I'm just her dad's friend. I don't want to confuse him."

"Oh my god, babe." Danny sits up because he has to kiss Steve. Steve has to be kissed. "There is nothing confusing for my kids to have more people in their lives who love them." 

They kiss. Steve lets Danny kiss him, and they maneuver themselves into a comfortable position on the couch for more. But it's still lazy, still working out how their bodies fit together in this new way. When their breath and their lips slow, Danny finds himself on his back with Steve's head on his chest. 

"Grace is a teenager, and soon, she'll be asking you to let her drive your truck," he tells Steve.

"Oh god."

"And now that Charlie is in school, he's gonna have lots of questions, and I won't have all the answers. But you will." 

"Yeah," Steve says, his voice lazy and soft. He hugs Danny tighter.

"See, babe? You're already a dad in all the ways that matter."

Danny can feel the moment Steve gives in. "OK."

"So we can make out now?"

Steve sits up on the couch, his knees on either side of Danny's hips. It's an awkward position, but the sight of Steve above him, beautiful, smiling--he never wants to move. "Yes, Danno." 

Danny pokes his finger in Steve's belly button. "What did I tell you about that?"

"You want me to call you 'Daniel' like Rachel does?"

"Fuck you, McGarrett. We were having a moment here. Why do you have to ruin everything?" 

Steve ducks down to suck a hickey on the side of Danny's neck. 

"Below the collar, below the collar, you animal." He smacks at Steve's shoulder until Steve sits up, smug grin on his swollen lips.

"So, Danny." Steve says his name with a pointed emphasis. "You're not the kind of man who shacks up after a first date--"

"Not a first date!" Danny crows.

"--but are you the kind who puts out?" This time, the emphasis is on Steve's rolling hips. Danny feels himself harden.

"I've been ready. Where have you been?"

The two of them together, on this old, lumpy couch, they don't quite fit. But that just encourages their bodies closer, closer. Danny gets his hands on Steve's ass to help grind their erections together. Short, sharp huffs of air from Steve warm Danny's skin.

"Don't hold those noises in, babe. I wanna hear how good you feel."

Steve probably had to do it quick and quiet in Navy. But Danny wants to hear him. He wants Steve to take his time, take what he wants, instead of settling for what he can get.

"You, too." Steve is panting in his ear. He's a heavy weight on top of Danny, but he's also doing most of the work. "I like your voice, Danny."

"So why are you always telling me to shut up?"

Steve stops. He stares down at Danny. "You want me to pop a boner in the car?"

"Oh my god. Shut up and make me come."

"Yeah," Steve says. He's right back to work. "Yeah, you can come now."

Eight years later, and Danny still doesn't know why he does what Steve tells him to.

Afterwards, they just breathe. Danny is exhausted. His entire body has given up everything it had been holding in for a long, long time. The air filling his lungs finally feels clean.

Steve grunts and groans as he rolls off the couch and onto the floor. He helps Danny to his feet.

"If we're gonna do this," Danny says, as they walk up the stairs together. They hold each other up with arms that don't want to let go. "You gotta promise me one thing."

"Anything," Steve says, without a moment's hesitation.

"You gotta promise to let me take care of you. Tell me when you feel like crap: metaphorically or literally."

"OK, Danno." He looks down to check Danny's reaction. Danny gives him a tired smile. "You, too." 

"Me, too," he promises.

Steve holds him close at the top of the stairs, in this house which has inexplicably always felt like home. Danny knows why now.

Steve makes him a promise, too. "As long as we both shall live."


End file.
